Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lovell sat on the love seat staring at the fire, Daphne stretched out beside him on the larger sofa, covered with a blanket and dozing.
He’d given her another foot massage—this time from the safety of the other side of the arm of the sofa—and she’d drifted right off.
Pulling his gaze from the flames, he let his eyes linger on her face.
Her stunning, famous face. As he traced the line of her cheek, the curve of her jaw, and the bow of her lips, an odd sort of conflict began percolating inside him.
He knew who she was, what she’d done with her remarkable career, but right now, she was…
all that but something more. She was a woman exhausted after a harrowing night, a sister protecting her sister and unborn niece or nephew, a friend, a confidant, a person.
Not an image on a magazine cover or picture on the internet.
And he’d dragged her into this shit. She’d point out that she’d put herself in the middle of it when she’d come after him. But he was learning that she was nothing if not fierce. And because he was connected to her sister, that made him her concern; something, someone, she wouldn’t turn away from.
The kitchen door swung open, and he glanced over his shoulder. Dulcie and Juan gestured him over. Checking on Daphne, he ensured the blanket was tucked around her and she was still sleeping, then he rose and slipped quietly into the kitchen.
“Where are Amber and Dottie?” he asked.
“They started dinner but ran out of greens for a salad, so headed into town with Marley. I’ll be surprised if the stores haven’t been wiped out, but they’ll get fresh air if nothing else,” Juan replied.
He nodded. “What’s going on? Need something?”
“Mantis called. Beeks was found dead an hour ago. Shot in the left temple and his body dumped south of town,” Juan replied. They’d all adopted Daphne’s moniker for the man.
“They’re fleeing ship,” he said, wondering why Ryan hadn’t called him. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he noted four missed calls. Two from Ryan, one from Mantis, and one from an unknown number. He’d silenced it earlier and forgotten.
“And culling the dead weight,” Dulcie said.
Lovell shoved his hands in his pockets, the hearty, homey smell of Bolognese and fresh bread an odd juxtaposition to the topic. “Wonder why Beeks was the one to die?”
“According to Daphne, Weeks had the Alien while Beeks had the Taser. Maybe just the one with the greater power won?” Juan suggested, although the tone of his voice told Lovell he didn’t really buy that story.
“Why kill him at all?” Dulcie said. “Daphne didn’t say anything about there being tension between the two, did she?”
Lovell shook his head. “No, but she did point out that they seemed like amateurs hired to do the job rather than professional assassins. Maybe amateur hour took over, and it was something as dumb as Beeks saying the wrong thing to Weeks and pissing him off?”
Both Dulcie and Juan shrugged. They’d seen weirder things.
“Ryan put alerts out for both men. They’ve posted their pictures online, and the local paper has picked it up,” Juan said.
“It’s an odd turn of events, but it does seem as if they were leaving town and Weeks dumped the body on the way, so I guess that’s good news. ”
“How was he found?” Lovell asked. It didn’t really matter, but curiosity got the better of him.
“He was dumped over a cliff, but a tree had come down in the storm, and he got caught in it. A snowplow driver spotted him,” Dulcie said.
“I wonder if the bullet will be traced to other crimes,” Juan said.
Lovell inclined his head. “Might give us an idea of where the Alien was stolen from or whether it was stolen at all.”
“What’s your plan now?” Juan asked, lifting his chin in Daphne’s direction. Lovell’d been listening and hadn’t heard her stir yet. Her body needed rest, and he was glad she wasn’t fighting it.
“She mentioned a cabin she plans to go to,” he said.
Both his brothers’ eyebrows went up. “She knows she’s safest here, right?” Juan said.
Lovell’s gaze drifted to the door, then back again.
“She’s not flighty or inexperienced. She’s lived through dangerous situations and isn’t turning a blind eye to any of this.
I think she should stay here, too, but I’m not going to assume this place she’s found won’t be as safe as the clubhouse—she’s too smart to make that kind of mistake.
” He paused. “But I do want to know more about it. I’ll ask when she wakes. ”
Juan glanced at his watch. “Philly and Callie should be here within the hour, too. They’ll want to hear.”
“I think they already know,” Lovell said, recalling the comment about HICC being connected to the cabin. “Between last night and this morning, though, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Philly.”
“And they seemed okay with it?” Dulcie asked.
Lovell nodded. “Another reason to understand exactly what this alternative is before trying to convince her to stay here.”
“Regardless, even if it’s Fort Knox, you’re not going to let her go alone,” Juan said.
“Philly and Callie will likely be there with her,” Dulcie pointed out.
Only they wouldn’t. One of the reasons Daphne was going to the cabin was to pull this shitstorm away from Callie and the baby.
He paused on that thought and hid a smile.
He still couldn’t believe Philly was going to be a dad.
He’d be a good one, especially with Callie by his side.
“We’ll see,” he replied, not wanting to reveal what he knew. That right belonged solely to Callie and Philly. “Any chance Weeks was caught on camera while leaving town?”
Juan frowned. “That’s a good question. What’s he driving?”
“He had a Volvo last night, but it was the third car he and Beeks stole, so who knows if he still has it,” Lovell replied. “I’ll call Ryan and find out if he knows or has a good guess.”
“There are live cameras at the pass ten miles south of town,” Dulcie said. “If they haven’t already, it would be good to check those. That’s not to say he couldn’t circle back, but with his face plastered all over town, it wouldn’t be the smartest move.”
“Weeks and Beeks might not be professionals, but they aren’t, weren’t, dumb,” Lovell said.
“If anything, I think we’ll see a new crew move in.
” A thought he’d been mulling over as he’d watched Daphne sleep.
He’d much rather Weeks stick around—at least they knew what he looked like and where some of his talents lay.
Who knew what the next person Daisy sent would be like? He paused on that thought.
“Do you think it’s possible this isn’t Daisy?” he asked his brothers. Both men cocked their heads. He exhaled. “Daphne thinks we’re being myopic focusing on her. And there are a couple of things that don’t add up,” he conceded. “But…”
“She already tried to kill you once and nearly killed someone else in the process,” Dulcie pointed out.
“That tends to weigh the scales in her favor,” Juan added. “What doesn’t add up?”
He didn’t have to think hard; he remembered every conversation with Daphne in detail.
“The first thing she pointed out was that sending two people to kill me, rather than doing it herself, doesn’t line up with the psychology of a stalker.
Apparently, she has some experience with them—which I don’t want to think too hard about—and in her experience, the relationship they have with the object of their stalking is very personal. ”
“Not something they’d farm out,” Juan said with a nod.
Lovell nodded. “But it’s also possible that Daisy’s moved on from being motivated by, well, whatever the hell motivated her years ago, and is now just pissed.”
“Possible,” Dulcie said. “Would be interesting to get a professional’s point of view.”
“What else?” Juan asked.
He relayed what Daphne had told Ryan and Ava about Weeks and Beeks’s attempt to psychologically manipulate him into acting out of panic.
“You’re not sure about that one, are you?” Juan said.
Lovell crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the counter.
“I dismissed it at first. Daisy only saw what she wanted to and doesn’t have the emotional intelligence or psychological makeup to understand other people’s motivations or character traits.
But it was actually one of the things she got mad about.
I’d forgotten about it until Daphne raised the question, but nothing infuriated Daisy more than when I didn’t act the way she thought I should.
” His brothers remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
They knew his brief marriage hadn’t been good, but he didn’t tend to talk about the details.
He exhaled again. “I hate that I let myself fall for her shit,” he said. “How did I not see through it?”
“Because there wasn’t anything to see through,” Daphne said, pushing through the door, startling all three men. A feat in and of itself, as none of them were easily caught by surprise.
“How are you feeling?” Dulcie asked.
“Need anything?” Juan offered.
“You should be lying down,” he said.
Her gaze swept over the three of them, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Still sore, but at least I can walk on my own. And well enough that you didn’t hear me clanging around.
Some coffee would be good if it’s made; if not, a glass of water, please.
I need to move around, not a lot, but at least a little.
That said, I wouldn’t say no to a chair,” she said, replying to all their questions.
Juan pulled out a mug and poured her a cup of coffee from their always-full pot, and Lovell grabbed a stool. He’d considered a chair, but the stool would keep her closer to their height, and she wouldn’t strain her neck looking up as they talked.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the mug and gingerly climbing onto the stool.
“Now, as to your question. People like Daisy? It isn’t a show—there’s nothing to see through.
What you saw, what you experienced, was who she really was.
But only at that moment. You didn’t see through it because there was nothing to see through. ”
He got what she was saying but didn’t buy it. “I should have picked up on that. I should have picked up on the fact that she wasn’t stable.”
“And when did you have time to do that?” Daphne pressed.
“You were together only a couple of months before you got married. How could you have possibly picked up on her instability in that time frame if she wasn’t, in fact, unstable during those few months?
What she gave you, what she showed you, was very real. A very real facet of herself.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped in that quickly in the first place,” he said.
She took a sip of her coffee and offered him a small smile. “Now that’s perhaps the real issue you’re struggling with. One that has nothing to do with Daisy and everything to do with yourself. I have some thoughts on that, but really, that’s for you to sort out.”
He was tempted to bait her into sharing; he didn’t think it would take much.
But self-preservation held him back. Daphne Parks was an astute woman with a well of experience to draw on.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she had to say.
Wasn’t sure he’d be able to absorb the arrows she’d release in his direction.
As if sensing his unease, she smiled again, a wide one this time. “It’s nice that you’re considering my theory, though. As vague as it is.”
“What is your theory?” Juan asked.
Daphne bobbed her head. “Not so much a theory of what is, but a possibility of what isn’t.
” She took another sip of her coffee before continuing.
“I take it Lovell already told you I have doubts about Daisy’s involvement.
” His brothers nodded. “I’m woman enough to admit that I could be very, very wrong.
But I still don’t think it’s a good idea to discount the rest of your life.
You had a childhood,” she said, looking at him.
“You served for however many years in the army—”
“Ten years,” he replied. He’d enlisted at eighteen and discharged seven years ago at twenty-eight.
“Ten years,” she repeated. “Then had a brief interlude in Atlanta with Daisy, before coming here, what, six years ago?”
“Close enough,” he said.
“History has shown us Daisy is an obvious source of threat to you,” she said. “But I doubt she’s the only one.”